


You and I Were Fireworks

by brightlightsfading



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little bit of feelings, Consensual Sex, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, I haven't seen past the beginning of season five, No Spoilers, Underage Sex, just porn, stiles is sixteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightlightsfading/pseuds/brightlightsfading
Summary: Legit just wanted summer time porn. Does not fit anywhere in the show as Stiles is female and I haven't seen past the first three episodes of season five. I also haven't written anything in forever, let alone posted anything, so please be kind. This is super self-indulgent.





	You and I Were Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Legit just wanted summer time porn. Does not fit anywhere in the show as Stiles is female and I haven't seen past the first three episodes of season five. I also haven't written anything in forever, let alone posted anything, so please be kind. This is super self-indulgent.

It feels like it's the hottest day of the summer, and she's bored because it's definitely way too hot to turn on her computer, and the air conditioner crapped out last week. The cold shower she just took helped, but she can feel sweat gathering at the small of her back again, and she's in as little clothing as she possibly can be. 

Scott's down visiting his grandparents with his mom and won't be back till next week; and the rest of the pack have family things to attend to. 

Although, come to think of it… The only person without plans, other than her, is Derek. And Derek has the whole Hale house to himself, and all that lovely a/c, so really she's doing him a favor by going over to enjoy it. Right? 

Right. She frowns down at her outfit for a second, before deeming it mostly appropriate to go out in public. No one will really see her, except maybe Mrs Cranston across the street, who will probably complain to her father but it's too hot for anything else. The denim skirt maybe is a little short, but it's airy (and shows off her legs, if she's honest) and okay, maybe she should put on a bra because there are practically no sides to her shirt; if the breeze picks up she'd be baring all to the world. But she's small enough in the chest area she doesn't really need one, outside of school at least. So she tosses her wet hair up into a messy bun and flops out of her room and down the stairs where it's slightly cooler, and then out to the Jeep. 

The path to the Hale house is familiar to her now, as familiar as the one to Scott's house, and the drive to the station. Soon enough she's parked under a canopy of trees, the car ticking over in the heat as she slides out of the driver's seat, her bare legs sticking to the leather seats. 

When she looks up, Derek is standing on the porch, arms folded over his chest, face inscrutable. She bounds over to him, sandals flopping against the wooden stairs. Derek flicks an eyebrow at her, then his eyes drop down to rake in her outfit. 

“What? It's hot out,” she says defensively, cheeks heating up under the scrutiny. 

“I didn't say anything,” Derek says, and she can hear the judginess in his voice. She scrunches her nose at him and makes for the door, sighing in relief as the cool air hits her, chilly enough to give her goose bumps. She heads for the living room where the drapes are drawn, and drops onto the couch, scooping up the tv remote and flicking it on. 

She's in the process of logging into Netflix when she catches Derek standing in the doorway, an unreadable look on his face. 

“Dude. What's up? You gonna come watch with me? Or are you just gonna stand there and creep?” She watches Derek push off the doorjamb, her eyes tripping down to where his, quite frankly delicious, arms are crossed over his also delicious chest, and waits while he stands at the edge of the couch. “Well? Whatcha waitin’ for?”

The only answer she gets is Derek's eyes staring down at where her legs are… Taking up the whole couch, oops. 

“Yknow, this wouldn't be an issue if you got another couch or some chairs,” she says as she folds up her legs to make space for Derek. She rolls her eyes as Derek predictably says nothing, but freezes when his hands reach for her legs, pulling them into his lap, leaving his fingers wrapped her ankle. She relaxes after a minute when Derek does nothing more and turns back to the tv, turning on the next episode of Psych for them to watch. 

They're halfway through when she feels goosebumps prickle along her legs and she can feel her eyes go wide when she looks down and catches Derek’s hands skimming up and down her calves slowly. She pushes away the squirmy feeling low in her belly and tries to concentrate, but her heart is beginning to race. 

Usually, the over exaggerated absurdity of the show reels her in, but all she can focus on is the sweep of Derek's hands on her bare skin, the way her body responds to the older man. Okay, objectively, she knows Derek is a hot piece of ass, but this thing, this thing where she knows what he's like as a person, is something totally different. He's been giving her butterflies for a while now, and she has no idea how to proceed. She thinks she should just go for it, see where her bravery takes her but at the same times she doesn't think she could take the rejection when he pushes her away. 

She bites her lip and shifts slightly, glancing down to make sure she's not falling out of her shirt, only to catch Derek's eyes on her, tripping over the bare skin where her shirt doesn't cover. She looks down for a moment before she attempts to surreptitiously adjust so a little more skin is showing, and she knows she succeeds when his hands squeeze around her calves briefly. 

Stiles swallows sharply, taking a breath before flicking her eyes back up to Derek's face, where he's watching her intently, a faint ring of Alpha red around his pupils. Keeping her eyes on him, she sits up and slowly climbs into his lap, settling herself carefully over his thighs, hands on his shoulders. 

That's about as far as her boldness takes her, unfortunately, unsure of where to go from here. 

Turns out she doesn't have to worry, because Derek's arms are curling around her and pulling her forward, slanting his mouth over hers, surprising a moan out of her. She squirms closer, and drags her hands through Derek's hair, already out of breath. Derek has one hand under her shirt, palm hot against her skin, and his other hand is dangerously high on her leg, fingertips brushing the hem of her skirt. All of a sudden, she's forgotten what underwear she put on after her shower, but she remembers that she shaved, so that's good. 

It's a heady feeling, Derek's mouth on hers, the air surrounding them muggy even with the a/c chugging away. Her blood feels like it's boiling, and she can't help the way she undulates in Derek's lap, gasping loudly as his hand finds its way fully under her skirt, fingertips grazing the edge of her panties. The rumble that edges out of Derek's mouth drives her crazy, and her fingers scrabble at the hem of his shirt, needing skin. He helps her out, pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it away before reaching for her own. Her skin breaks out in goosebumps, and she can feel her nipples tighten in the chill, and she feels a little embarrassed for a moment until Derek ducks his head down and takes one into his mouth, sucking hard and making her whine. 

“Derek, Derek. Please,” she gasps, fingers tightening on his shoulders, arching in his lap. Derek lets her nipple go with a sharp nip, then tips her over onto the couch. His hands slide up her legs, starting at her ankles, pressing a kiss to the bone before climbing up to her thighs, nipping sharp bites into the soft skin but stopping again at the hem of her skirt. She meets his eyes and swallows nervously but she nods when his fingers inch slightly higher. 

She feels like she's about to vibrate out of her skin as Derek's fingers keep going, curling in the edge of her underwear. She lifts her hips off the couch as he pulls them down her legs, tossing them onto the floor. Her belly clenches in anticipation as Derek turns his attention to her skirt, not bothering with the zip, just pushing it up and ducking his head immediately into the crease of her thigh. She waits a moment for the touch of his mouth, but all she feels is - 

“Are you sniffing me?” She asks incredulously, lifting her head off the couch to stare at Derek. She's frozen for a moment, because the sight of Derek between her legs makes her want to clench her legs together with need. 

All Derek does is smirk gently at her before ducking back down and his mouth is suddenly open against her, tongue flickering softly over her clit, and she bucks her hips up in surprise. 

“Shit, fuck, Derek. Please, just. Don't stop, okay?” One hand curls around the edge of the couch, and the other carefully tangles in the soft curls of Derek's hair as she rocks up gently into his mouth. God, this is just, so much better than her own fingers, so much better than the vibrator she ordered online; if only she could get Derek's fingers too, it'd be perfect. 

She's startled out of her musings at a low chuckle from Derek, and she looks down again to see him grinning up at her. 

“You, ah. Just said all of that out loud.” Stiles groans softly, because of course she did. Apparently even in the middle of getting eaten out by the hottest guy she's ever met, she still has no brain to mouth filter. “Is that something you want?” Derek asks, his breath hot on her inner thighs. “You want my fingers inside you, my mouth on you, until you come?”

She thinks she should be embarrassed by the whine that falls from her lips unbidden, but it sounds like fucking heaven. She tries to subtly tilt her hips up towards Derek's mouth, but she groans when he just lays an arm across her hips and holds her down. 

“I want you to say it, Stiles. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”

Stiles curses softly, trying to arch up under Derek's arm, her body trembling. 

“I. Just, touch me, please. Derek, please.” She doesn't think she's ever begged for anything so much in her life but right now all she wants is Derek's mouth on her again, wants to come apart under him. She gets so lost in what she wants that she nearly misses the gentle way Derek runs a finger over her clit, making her shiver. 

“I said that out loud again, didn't I?” she asks, flushing as she looks down at him, gasping as he nods and slowly caresses the outer lips of her vagina, before pushing a finger carefully inside her. 

“Jesus, Stiles. You're so fucking wet right now, can you feel that?” Oh god, she can and she can hear it. It's obscene, and so fucking hot, Derek's finger pushing inside her, his lips and tongue back on her clit, making her squirm against the leather of the couch. Finally having both his fingers and his mouth has her closer to orgasm, her breath stuttering in her throat, fingers curled into the couch cushions. 

Derek's mouth is ceaseless, tongue teasing her clit as he eases a second finger inside her, crooking them and hitting that spot that makes her back arch off the couch, gasping loudly. She's so close, just needs a little more to send her over the edge, just needs Derek to keep going, god, his mouth is just so good-

The nudge of a third finger pressing inside, and Derek's tongue firm on her clit is what does it, makes her shake through her orgasm, her whole body alight, her breath loud in her ears. After a minute, she starts to relax back into the couch, wanting to stretch out under Derek's body and maybe nap.

She feels a shock when instead she feels Derek's tongue lap in between where his fingers are still inside her, rather than pulling away.

“Derek, what are you doing?” she asks, and God, her voice sounds so raspy, like she was the one who was. Doing that. Oh god, her cheeks are so warm, thinking about it, and the scary part is that she'd like to do that for him.

“I know you're not done yet, you can keep going,” he says with a smirk twisting his mouth before dipping his head. “I'm going to make you fall apart.”

Her whole body shudders as his tongue gets back to work, his fingers twisting inside her again. Her hips arch up before Derek can pin her down, chasing her second orgasm, her thighs shaking, her whole body hot under his attention. 

Before she can fully come down from the high, Derek's carefully pushing what feels like a fourth finger inside her and the stretch is nothing she's ever felt before. His mouth keeps going, tongue on her clit and the occasional nip of his teeth, and she can't breathe with how good it all feels. Her muscles tighten and she can feel her toes curl and she hurtles toward her third orgasm, coming with a sharp gasp, biting her lip against any other noises.

She slaps weakly at Derek's shoulder, pushing him away, struggling to catch her breath. He backs away slowly, pulling his fingers out of her carefully, tracing the outer edge of her labia almost reverently, pressing a gentle kiss to her clit before he sits up.

She's almost too worn out to feel self-conscious about laying on Derek's couch mostly naked, but she reaches to pull down her skirt, covering herself up. She's a little embarrassed now, now that the high is wearing off, and she struggles to sit up, casting about to find her shirt.

She can't look at Derek as she gets up, covering her bare chest with one arm as she picks her shirt up off the floor. 

“I, uh.” God, her voice is scratchy as hell, that's embarrassing. “Should go, I guess. Sorry,” she winces, and makes her way to the front door on shaky legs. 

Before she gets there, however, there's a heavy weight against her back, carefully pinning her to the wall, warm breath against her neck.

“What's wrong, Stiles?” Derek's voice is soft and quiet against her neck, and the tenderness makes her drop her head forward, eyes tearing up. He's pressed up against her back, and she can feel that he's still hard, and she feels sort of bad about that. His arms are a barrier and his body is a line of heat against her, and she feels safe like this but she feels like she shouldn’t be liking this as much as she is.

“I didn’t come here for this, Derek. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I didn’t mean to force this on you, I know how you feel about me. I didn’t want to push my feelings on you,” it just comes spilling out and she can’t help it, nor can she help the sniffle or the hot well of tears in her eyes. Behind her, she can feel Derek tense for a moment before he relaxes again, and then his nose is dragging up the length of her neck, scenting her slowly.

“If you were a wolf,” he says, his voice a raspy growl, “you would be able to tell that my feelings for you are a little more complicated than what you’re thinking. And you definitely didn’t force me into anything that I didn’t want, Stiles. I know you can feel that.” And oh god she can, there’s no mistaking it for anything than what it is. 

“I. Feelings?” she asks, because she needs a more clear-cut answer than what he would usually give her.

“I guess I’ve been too subtle for you, but everyone else knows how I feel. I’m pretty sure there are bets going around about how long it takes me to tell you. It’s kind of why everyone has been so busy lately, they’ve been trying to push us into this so they can claim the winnings.”

Her head is reeling suddenly; and not just because she’s still coming down from three intense orgasms. 

“You also seem to forget that emotions are a little easier for wolves to detect than it is for humans. I’m not saying this to embarrass you, but most of the wolves, except for maybe Scott, can tell you have feelings for me. Sexual feelings are easier to pick up on, but that’s not all you feel, Stiles. If it was, we wouldn’t be standing here like this, talking about it.” She nods, her forehead still propped against the wall, and Derek’s arms drop from the wall to slide around her waist, stroking a comfortable rhythm along her belly. “Come watch a movie with me. I won’t even complain when you talk through the whole thing.” he whispers, pulling her away from the wall towards the couch.

“But. Don’t you want-”

“It can wait, Stiles. Honest. I’m good.”

“Can I at least put my shirt back on?”

“Leave it off. It’s not like it covers much and I want to see you,” and she can feel the grin against her neck as he drags her backwards, pulls her onto the couch and arranges them so that he’s spooning her aggressively. She startles briefly when one hand settle around her hips, and his other carefully cups one breast, stroking along the underside, making her shiver.

“Derek Hale, you’re totally into me,” she says, as she reaches for the remote to put something else on, snuggling deeper into his hold.

“I thought it’d be obvious by now,” he whispers into her neck and all she can do is smile as the opening for The Lord of The Rings comes on, resting a hand on his arm and settling into the quiet.


End file.
